by Mairi Chong
Instead of turning to look, she continued to walk but with more purpose. The thud of the wheels as they skated over the paving slabs was impossible to ignore. When she could stand it no more, she stopped dead in the street and spun around. He leapt back and teetered on the edge of the pavement, his arms flailing.
‘Why are you following me?’ she asked.
‘I’m not,’ he replied, but his immediate smirk gave him away. ‘I’ve not seen you in ages,’ he said. ‘I wanted a news.’
‘I’m heading home,’ she told him.
‘You’re not. This is the wrong way. Why are we going up to the old hospital anyway? I always hated it here.’
Holly ignored this and he shrugged. They set off once more.
‘I heard about the police,’ Holly said, half-turning as he still insisted on following up the hill. ‘I thought you were still being questioned.’
He tutted, and then perhaps realising that he was duty-bound to give her something more, stated: ‘Oh aye. You did hear then.’
He laughed a bit after that. The kind of insane laugh that made her wonder if he knew the seriousness of what had occurred. Once he had finished with the laughing, he told her that he was thinking about something else. Holly didn’t ask what.
‘Stop walking behind,’ she said, already finding herself irritated by the man and his carry-on. ‘People were worried about you, you know?’
‘You mean, you were worrying?’ Thomas asked, still lagging annoyingly back.
‘I wasn’t worried at all,’ she said. ‘I couldn’t have cared less about you. The police might well have been torturing you and I wouldn’t have thought a thing about it. It was Marie, I meant. Don’t you care?’ she asked, stopping and spinning around on him once more. ‘You could have been arrested for murder. You still might be. Doesn’t that frighten you? Blood was found outside your home. You’re only free now because they don’t have enough evidence yet.’
Holly studied his pock-marked face in the yellowish light. He met her gaze for a moment and then looked at his feet. ‘I know, I know,’ he said.
Tears stung at her eyes and she wiped them angrily with the sleeve of her jacket. She felt like she had just beaten a wretched dog with a stick. She turned again and began walking. This time, he didn’t follow. She got beyond the next street light when he called out, and despite herself, she smiled.
‘I thought you were finding who did it anyway,’ he shouted. ‘I wasn’t worried ‘cos I knew you were on my side.’
20
It was well past eight when Holly arrived at Alex’s. She wondered if he’d be a bit annoyed, but when he opened the door, he was all politeness, and clearly ready to play the perfect host. After her unsatisfying conversation with Thomas, she was eager to start on a bottle of vodka but it seemed that she would have to at least pretend to be a normal human being first. This saddened her to some extent. She had thought that she and Alex were on the same wave-length. But when she went into the living room and saw that he had put coasters on the coffee table, she knew that he was far too nice a man for her.
‘Have you started without me?’ she asked, eyeing up a glass of something on the mantlepiece.
‘Diet Coke,’ he said. ‘I was waiting. I take it you’re on the hard stuff? I have a good whisky in the cupboard. Don’t really drink it myself, it was a gift.’
‘Can’t stand the stuff,’ she told him. ‘I’ve brought my own anyway.’ She held up the vodka. ‘But I’ll mix it. No offence,’ she said. Perhaps he thought she was accusing him of wanting to date-rape her or something. ‘I’m fussy like that,’ she explained, ‘and you’ll be polite and give me too much mixer.’
Holly followed him through to the kitchen. Part of her died a little when she saw that the table was set for two and he had already put the oven on.
‘Just pizza,’ he said, probably seeing the panic in her eyes.
‘I’ve had half a loaf of bread before coming,’ she told him, and he laughed.
‘You’re a bit of a pro then?’
Things, of course, became more relaxed when Holly’s Russian comrade began to take effect. She was on her third glass when her muscles started to soften and her jaw became lax. Alex, she noted, was taking things more leisurely, and even with her undisguised enthusiasm for the drink, he appeared less forthcoming.
‘What a week,’ Holly said, as they sat now in the living room at her suggestion, with plates of pizza on their knees, instead of at his more formal arrangement next-door.
‘What? Betty and the shop and all?’ he asked, wiping his mouth with a piece of kitchen roll.
‘Yeah. It’s a bloody mess. I was hoping you’d been helping the police out on the quiet,’ she said. ‘Maybe undercover at the charity shop. I know you said you were a retired officer or whatever, but that might have been a ruse to put me off.’
Alex snorted and shook his head. ‘No, but I’ve been thinking about what you said earlier in the shop, about the blood. Do you remember, when we were in the kitchen talking about Thomas being questioned?’
Holly looked up. ‘What did I say? I can’t remember what I was thinking about two seconds ago.’
‘Just about them finding blood in The Court and it not necessarily meaning it was him. That it could easily be any one of the residents there. It reminded me of a thing I heard. Purely gossip, though, so nothing of any importance.’
By now. Holly had placed her plate on the floor and looked at Alex with real interest.
‘No, don’t get excited,’ he said. ‘It’s just about that man who comes in the shop. Carbolic, they call him. You know who I mean?’
She nodded.
‘Well, I heard about him a while back. Think he used to work on the bins or something and got fired for coarse behaviour. Anyway, it’s just I heard he had a history of violence. Not sure if it led to a criminal record or not, but there was talk of it, I’m sure. It was just a thing I had in the back of my head,’ Alex said smiling. ‘The police will be onto it though, of course.’
Holly took a swig of the vodka. ‘It’s funny you mentioning him, because only the other day, Carol was talking about him too.’
Alex leaned forward and moved one of the unused table mats so that it was in line with the right-angle of the table. Holly glanced down in disbelief.
‘She said that she’d come across him in the past. Years and years ago, she said, in her line of work.’
‘Oh?’ Alex asked. ‘I can’t imagine Carol in a real job. What did she do then?’
‘She used to be a social worker, apparently.’
Alex looked incredulous.
‘I know, I know, she must have been a nightmare,’ Holly laughed. ‘Goodness knows how they managed to boot her out. Probably interfering in too many folks’ business, I imagine.’
Alex snorted. ‘I never knew, but then why would I? So, she looked after that man Carbolic, did she? And what did she have to say about him?’
‘Funnily enough, pretty much the same as you. History of violent temper. He was a hoarder by the sounds of things. Had to be forcibly removed from his house. Rats everywhere.’
‘So Carbolic’s our best bet, is he?’ Alex asked.
‘You’re the ex-policeman,’ she laughed. ‘What do you think about the rest of the charity shop workers? Anyone got a good motive? Didn’t you say you saw Betty rowing with both Neil and Carol on separate occasions?’
At this, Alex looked like he had a secret to tell. He smirked a bit and went all shy.
‘Oh, come on, don’t pretend you’re not going to tell me,’ she said ‘I thought we were pals. You’re about the only person I can abide in that bloody place.’
‘Why do you stay on then?’ he asked.
‘God knows,’ she said, ‘but don’t try and distract me. You know something, don’t you?’
Alex picked up his now empty plate and getting up, he retrieved hers.
‘I don’t do crusts,’ she said in explanation. ‘Stop messing about,’ she called after him, as he
went through to the kitchen. He returned grinning.
‘You’re a bit impatient, aren’t you?’ he asked. ‘OK, so I do know something, but this is strictly between the two of us. I’ve no grudge to bear against Neil, and if anything, I quite like the man and our silly chats. Oh, I know he’s got an ego the size of Britain, but I think he’s as insecure as the next man, if not more so.’
‘OK,’ she told him. ‘Pinkie promise I won’t tell a soul.’
‘So, I did overhear Betty and Neil talking. It would have been weeks and weeks before she died though, and it was only a little snippet too, but it finally made sense the other day in the shop. I asked him about it. It seems that Betty caught him. He wasn’t doing anything illegal,’ Alex said quickly. ‘But to be fair it was immoral, and even I struggle a bit with it, but that’s probably the ‘done’ thing in the antique business.’
Holly was beginning to get quite irritated by this preamble.
He grinned. ‘OK, I’ll get to it,’ he said. ‘So, it seems that Neil has never hidden the fact that he used to run a successful antique business. When he retired, he could have put his feet up quite comfortably, but my guess is, that when you’ve done that kind of a job, it’s hard to switch off. You must see potential deals everywhere.’
Holly took another slug of the vodka but didn’t take her eyes off Alex’s face.
‘Yes, so he must have offered his services in the charity shop on the pretext of keeping himself busy. I don’t think that part of it’s a lie anyway. But, and even Neil admitted this to me the other day when I pressed him, things have come in through that shop. These have been legitimate donations that you or I might well discount as being worthless. We could have stuck a one-pound tag on them, without knowing any better, but Neil has spotted something more.’
‘Has he stolen something?’ Holly asked.
‘Oh, God no, not at all. I told you, it wasn’t illegal. But in the past, when things have come in, he’s seen their real value. He told me it was mostly jewellery. It would be stuff that looked like coloured glass to you or me, but Neil would have known through his experience in the antique trade, that whatever it was, was worth a lot more.’
‘And so, he mislabeled them?’ she asked.
‘I don’t think it even got as far as that. He might not have even put them out on the shop floor at all, but gone to the person on the till, saying he wanted to buy them for his wife, or whatever. He’d have purchased them for next-to-nothing, planning to resell them online probably, and would have gone on to make a sweet little profit.’
Holly shook her head in disbelief. ‘Crafty bugger,’ she said.
‘Immoral as I said, but not illegal.’
‘And I suppose Betty realised and threatened to get him kicked out of the shop?’
‘Pretty much,’ Alex said. ‘As I say, he’s told me about it and it’s not as if Betty could have blackmailed him or anything, but it’s a rather nice, little earner on the side for him, and it would have been a shame to ruin it, as he put it, all because the old woman was feeling moralistic.’
‘Well,’ Holly said, leaning back and sighing. ‘Neil does seem to be in the frame. And I so wished it could be Carol. I’ve never met such an annoying woman in my life.’
Alex laughed and they topped up their drinks once more.
‘I suppose it could have been her,’ he said, ‘just playing devil’s advocate.’
‘Go on then, why Carol?’ Holly asked. It was good to have someone to talk to about it all. She had bounced the ideas around her head enough times to give herself a concussion.
‘Well then,’ said Alex, leaning back on the sofa. ‘She and Betty didn’t get on, did they? Betty had been in that shop and running things for far longer than her. How do you think it must have felt when Carol waltzed in and started re-organising things? You know how bossy Carol can be? Imagine how galling that would have been for Betty.’
‘It’s not enough to kill for though,’ she said disappointedly. ‘And anyway, that would be a motive for Betty killing Carol.’
Alex scrunched up his face and looked as if he was thinking hard. ‘OK, how about Betty overheard Carol and Tricia, or whoever, discussing the shop takings. Maybe the shop’s been doing much worse than Carol makes out.’
‘We’re always busy though,’ she said.
‘Good point.’ Alex put his glass down. ‘Right, so how about this?’ he said. ‘Maybe takings shouldn’t be down, but maybe Carol has been managing the shop very badly indeed, not paying overheads, heating bills, or whatever. Remember she hired that skip? They cost a bloody fortune; you know? How the charity agreed to it, I’ve no idea. So maybe she’s been overspending, and Betty threatened to go to head-office about it. How about that?’
‘I like that one better,’ Holly said. ‘You’re far cleverer at this than me.’
Finally, she felt at peace. After all of Alex’s nonsense earlier with the bloody tablemats and the pizza, Holly had begun to worry that she might have misjudged him. For the rest of that night, he wasn’t nearly so uptight and even when he tried to kiss her as she left, he took the slap in good spirit, and even told her that he deserved it.
21
When Holly woke it was nearly midday. She was surprised to be completely free of a headache and only the slightest taste of vomit played on her lips. Getting up, she explored her surroundings. She was glad to find that she had had the foresight after months of rehearsal, to place a pint of water by her bedside. The kitchen and bathroom were more chaotic. A trail of her clothes led from the front door, now a well-established routine. Her jacket lay, its arm outstretched in a beckoning, come-hither manner. Her top, jeans and underwear were less comically displayed, and when she did finally bother to pick up and redistribute the mess, she found that a sock was missing. God knows what had become of it.
But the truth of the matter was, that she was far less indisposed than she should have been that morning, and for very good reason. Holly wasn’t a complete idiot after all. She trusted Alex no more than the rest of the charity shop bunch and going to his house on the pretext of letting her hair down had been, of course, part of the plan. She had perhaps let herself relax a little too much and that was unfortunate, but had she gone all out on the vodka as he had thought she was doing, she would have been incapable of self-defence, and might easily have ended up unconscious on his living room floor.
Considering that Alex was still very much a suspect, Holly had decided to water-down some of her drinks the previous night and had determined never to allow Alex to mix one in case he slipped something into the glass. She had been facetious about him date-raping her, but one could never be too careful. To make doubly sure, on returning home, she had stuck her fingers down her throat. Good for cleansing the body of unwanted toxins.
As she padded around her small flat, unable to put the heating fully up due to her lack of credit, she thought over what she had gained through her alliance with Alex. He had been all too eager to come up with motives for his charitable colleagues. Admittedly, he had been egged on, and might well have been showing off, or trying to get into her good-books, but it did speak volumes about his character. Holly had never befriended a police officer before, but she wasn’t so sure that this was normal behaviour for one, even if they had taken medical retirement. She thought back to what Alex had told her about his work and about how saddened he was to leave what he clearly saw as his vocation. Last night, he had become less inhibited, although she was quite aware that he was pacing himself and unwilling to completely let himself go. Towards the end of the evening, they had discussed his work once again. ‘Eight years in February,’ he had kept repeating. ‘Eight bloody years.’ It was at that point; when he appeared to be becoming maudlin, that she had decided to call it a night. Holly hated a miserable drunk having been one herself so many times before, and she didn’t want her impression of Alex to be ruined.
In many ways, part of her didn’t want to know the truth now. She sat at the kitchen table sipping at
a freshly made mug of coffee, grimacing at the heat of it and staring at the blank computer screen. She wondered if what she was about to do was wise. Just then, a message flashed up on her mobile. It was from him. Some witty little check-in, clearly making sure that she was still talking to him. Holly wished he hadn’t, because he came over all the more out of practice at these things. Having a romantic association had never been part of the plan, but perhaps she had led him on in some way. She still couldn’t fathom what the man saw in her. Perhaps it was simple desperation. She was certainly in no place mentally to be carrying-on with anyone. It seemed all the odder though, given that she had told him next-to-nothing about herself still. The previous night, when he asked again about what she had done before coming to Glainkirk, she had made some trite comment and skirted the issue once more. Perhaps he was one of those men that liked a broken woman; someone to fix and then spend a lifetime accepting the adulation and gratitude they deserved. But that wasn’t her thing at all.
Holly ignored the text message, and with this in mind, began her search. It was irritatingly easy to find and surprisingly so given the nature of the information. Within thirty minutes of trawling, clicking in and out of various regulatory documents, she had discovered what she was after. She found herself quite shocked by the list. Never before had she considered the possible reasons for a trusted official losing their job. It seemed that many people had gone rogue over the years. Her eyes immediately fell on one, which cited ‘sexual relationship with a vulnerable female’. This she thought was bad enough, until she found: ‘possession and taking indecent images of children’. Her blood ran cold. The others were similar but less sensational: ‘drink driving’, ‘data protection offences’, ‘theft and selling counterfeit goods’. There was even a ‘possession of cannabis’ in there. Holly snorted as she read this.